


something old

by kuro49



Series: a wedding recipe [1]
Category: DCU
Genre: Bottom Jason Todd, Community: dckinkmeme, DC Kinkmeme, M/M, Object Insertion, Rimming, Under-negotiated Kink, alcohol enema
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Slade brings the wine, and Jason is to di(n)e for.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Series: a wedding recipe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774270
Comments: 8
Kudos: 186





	something old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wajjs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/gifts).



> this fic is a culmination of a lot of things: 
> 
> a fill for [jason todd + object insertion prompt on kinkmeme](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/766.html?thread=7166#cmt7166). my 500th!!!!! fic on ao3 :D
> 
> wajjs really should be a co-creator here because some bits were lifted directly from our chat, and i cannot take credit for the brilliance that is slade's dinner lines.
> 
> alcohol enemas are also known as butt chugging, and i just really needed everyone to know this. and in case anyone knows anything about wine, don't @ me after reading this because i know nothing so the desecration of what's probably really good wine doesn't hurt me. i just know this wine as the same wine ordered by the restaurant critic in ratatouille. 
> 
> with all of this knowledge in mind, please enjoy.

There are a few things that Slade misses from when he was still thoroughly human. For one, and it's a pretty big one, he misses the ability to get drunk. He'd even take tipsy for a turn. But he is a meta and the alcohol metabolizes through his system too fast for it to affect him in any of the ways that makes drinking fun.

He's sipping bourbon for the taste when Jason comes out of the bedroom. He is only in a pair of threadbare sweatpants, towel still hanging around his neck, skin all scrubbed pink from the heat of his shower, ends of his hair still dripping wet with water. It's a familiar sight, but it's one that he still can't quite resist on a fundamental level.

Slade watches Jason cross the room, pours a finger into Slade's own glass and takes it for himself.

"Hungry yet?" Jason asks, casual. He tips it back quick, and downs it. Knows just how much Slade hates it when he does that, says it's all wasted on his dead palate when he can't tell the good stuff from the cheap stuff. And it's true. Jason likes it for the simple way the burn goes down. To him, it's all a little bit nasty anyways.

When he looks back at Slade, it's to meet a heated gaze. So maybe, Slade isn't too mad about it this time.

"Always." Slade tells him, eye not leaving the naked expanse of Jason's torso. Every raised scar, every love bite, the imprint of his teeth around a nipple still, and it's all for him. He doesn't give the kid any warning before he is yanking Jason into his lap.

There is the steady reassuring weight of Jason's thighs bracketing him. His hands settling over Slade's shoulders. The sweatpants are damp around the waistband where it's soaked up water. The towel Jason had around his neck falls to the ground at Slade's feet.

"So," Jason asks, his mouth tugging into a grin at the first press of Slade's mouth to his, "what's for dinner?"

"I'm eating out." Slade answers, his hand running down from Jason's side to curl over Jason's ass, then squeezing, making quite the statement when paired with a promise.

And it's got Jason almost choking on spit because _fuck_ , if that ain't a god awful line. " _Are_ you now, old man?"

Slade doesn't bother with an answer, just takes a drink from the bottle of bourbon next to them directly before he is drawing Jason in to meet the easy touch of lips. The man kisses him with bourbon still in his mouth, makes Jason open up to the taste with a press of tongue. Strong notes of vanilla to start, oak and caramel sliding smooth as Jason is made to savour it. Jason tilts his head to the side, eases the angle for their mouths to slot together.

It's slow, it's deliberate in how deep Slade fucks his tongue against Jason's, pushing the taste of the bourbon over every last crevices inside of Jason's mouth before he lets him finally swallow the first sip. When Slade pulls back, it's to the sight of Jason looking dazed, mouth parted, slack-jawed, lips coming away wet and red.

And it is to this sight that Slade takes another swig, swipes his thumb over Jason's bottom lip where the taste is beginning to seep in.

This turn, Jason comes to him without any prompting at all, mouth already parting, tongue peeking soft and pink and eager for another taste.

By the time Slade lets him up, they are out a good two-thirds of the bottle of bourbon and Jason is tipsy for good. He is standing steady only because of Slade's hands on him, the man's arms coming around him before he is being picked up from off the ground. It probably goes to show them both that he's probably a little more than tipsy when he doesn't even protest at being manhandled.

Jason blinks, and it's like no time has passed but he is sprawled out in the center of the bed staring up at the ceiling, right where Slade's put him.

A firm push of his hips against the mattress, and Slade is telling him to _stay_.

Jason tells himself he can do that, doesn't realize he's said it out loud until Slade pauses at the edge of the bed looking down at him with something akin to a smirk.

"Good boy." Slade says in that tone of voice, the kind that makes Jason go pink without pause.

When Slade returns, Jason is entirely naked, his sweatpants kicked off of the side of the bed, both of his arms are outstretched between the spread of his thighs. His forearms flexing to work two fingers inside of himself to the first knuckle. Slade's got him all wound up, it's not the right angle and it's not as good as when Slade does it but Jason is desperate for any kind of release as he writhes atop the sheets, his hips lifting from the bed to get that special kind of friction he craves.

Slade settles down on the bed, wraps a hand around Jason's wrists to tug them away, enjoys the keen Jason lets out at being denied a little too much.

"Not just yet, kid." He tells him, and this too is a promise. 

Jason has spent enough time as billionaire Bruce Wayne's adopted son to know more than he ever cares to about wine, and he recognizes a collector's dream when he sees it. And he sees it now, being held up in Slade's hand is a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947 St-Emilion.

That, Jason thinks, feels like quite the appropriate fuck you to the culture of luxury assets and vintage wine collecting as a whole.

What he says though is, " _fuck_."

Out loud, breathy, and in awe when he watches Slade uncork the bottle of wine with his teeth, spits the cork on the bed and takes a swig. Jason's eyes roam over the line of Slade's jaw, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows hard. The thick muscle at his neck moving as he does. 

When Slade looks at him again, the smile that pulls across his mouth is all teeth, near feral with intent.

Jason repeats the motion for him, swallowing harder in anticipation. 

Because he doesn't put it together. Not until Slade is turning him over, coaxing on to his knees before he is yanking Jason's ass up in the air. Jason's been in this position enough times to settle easily into it, rests his shoulders against the mattress while he turns his head to the side and buries his fingers into the pillows above him. His eyes already fluttering shut.

When there is the brush of something cold against his rim, Jason doesn't even flinch. His hole gives in to the gentlest of pressure. Because this is a routine he bodily knows, it's Slade's fingers dripping in lube, a bullet vibrator or two, it's his favourite plug being worked inside of him.

Not the touch of the opened wine bottle being tipped into him.

Jason yelps at the sensation, wet and chilled, jerks his hips with it, and it sloshes all over the place.

His cheeks go hot, burning almost as red as the wine spilling over the curve of his ass to drip down the back of his thighs. He says Slade's name in rapid fire, tries to get away but Slade's hands at his hips pin him in place. But more than that, it's the hot curl of Slade's tongue along his taint up to his hole to catch the rivets of wine that makes him whine, long and low and desperate. A shiver drags up along his spine, spills over into pleasure as all the heat goes to the place where Slade's mouth touches him.

His head spins, and it's not just from the alcohol.

"You're taught better than that, kid." Slade turns the label on the bottle to him, shows him the year on the wine like that's something he cares about when he's being made to take it from down there. "Now, stop wasting the good stuff." 

There is still the taste of bourbon across Jason's tongue but it's the thickening smell of spilled red wine filling his nose. It's fucking dizzying.

Red in the face and gasping into the sheets, Jason feels Slade lapping up every drop to spill out of him.

It's a weird fucking sensation, so full, so _wet_.

Jason's got no idea how long he will be able to last, he's just pretty sure that he's going to end up tearing the bed sheets into shreds beneath his fingertips if Slade keeps this up any longer. The back of his thighs are all sticky in its residue, the sheets beneath them are stained a deep dark red. Jason is well and truly drunk. The alcohol hitting him faster and so much harder than usual.

When Slade finally presses his mouth to Jason's rim, Jason muffles the hitch to his voice, the sob as Slade licks into him. Drinking him in, swallowing him down.

Just as he did when Jason sat in his lap, trading bourbon for kisses, Slade works him open the same now, slow with every press of his tongue reaching deeper and deeper inside of him. It's the taste of Cabernet Franc and Merlot in perfect harmony, seeping sweet and rich on his palate. The texture lush across his tongue. The underlying taste that it is all Jason making this downright exquisite. Jason's thighs shake where they are holding up, and Slade rewards that. He nips at his rim and Jason nearly screams into the pillow he's dragged against his face to muffle all the noises falling free of him.

The bottle of Cheval Blanc being corked again is such a distant sound. All Jason knows is the way Slade's hands dig into his hips, steady where his fingertips find those same places again to press into the same bruises marking Slade's spot.

When Slade turns him over, drags the pillow down from where he had it clutched to his face, Jason blinks up at him with his lashes wet and his eyes half-lidded. He isn't seeing doubles or triples, and his vision doesn't swim. The only thing he knows is how the man above him towers over him.

Looks down at him with a single eye, lighting up so bright with all the focus in the world to say: "You're a _mess_ , kid."

Slade brushes back Jason's sweat soaked bangs, gets it to stick up at a weird angle. He can feel the heat in those flushed cheeks, see the way Jason leans into his touch without any hesitation at all. Slade never expects the kind of power he feels when he gets Jason to this point, to know this is entirely his doing, it's heady every time. 

"Entirely your fault."

It's simple, and the logic is sound. Slade isn't about to argue with Jason about that.

When Slade leans down just far enough, Jason is the one to take the kiss, opens wide to the broad sweep of Slade's tongue against his own, lets him bite down against the swell of his bottom lip until its all plump with blood. Taste of vanilla, a fair trade for a different kind of sweetness over the curve of Slade's mouth. Jason surrenders the pillow so he can wrap his arms around the back of Slade's neck instead, yanking him closer, groaning into the deep rich chuckle Slade lets out before he makes another promise to him.

"I always take responsibility."

"Good. Now fuck me properly, old man."

Jason's inhibitions are at an all time low, and Slade is perfectly okay with that request. They've done the wine and the dine of the evening, it's about time he finally puts out.

**Author's Note:**

> [click through for fanart by rik. warnings for rat wine. ](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/613206198883319822/718358821734449172/shitpost.jpeg)


End file.
